The Brazen Beauties Book 3
Historical Romance, Regency Romance
Date Published: March 21st, 2023
He’s a powerful landowner…
She’s an irresistible wallflower…
For nearly a year, Victoria Leighton has shut out the world. Her sole focus has been on paying off the debt she inherited from her husband and securing a comfortable income. Unaccustomed to independence, to stepping out into Society and getting noticed, she ignores the cravings of her heart. Until a stranger arrives on her doorstep and presents her with a daring invitation.
Colin West hates complications. But when he seeks shelter from a storm and meets a reclusive widow, instinct compels him to save her from her self-imposed prison. Soon, he’s hosting a house party and doing his best not to fall for the quick-witted lady. To do so would be disastrous. For if the scars he received in war have taught him anything, it is that he is incapable of instilling desire in any woman, never mind love…
The Brazen Beauties Series
Mr. Dale and The Divorcée, Book One
Mr. Grier and the Governess, Book Two
Mr. West and The Widow , Book Three
Read an excerpt below...
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author, Sophie Barnes, has spent her youth traveling with her parents to wonderful places all around the world. She's lived in five different countries, on three different continents, and speaks Danish, English, French, Spanish and Romanian with varying degrees of fluency.
She has studied design in Paris and New York and has a bachelor's degree from Parson's School of design, but most impressive of all - she's been married to the same man three times, in three different countries and in three different dresses.
While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion - writing.
When she's not busy, dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys spending time with her family. She currently lives on the East Coast.
Excerpt from Mr. West and The Widow...
Colin strode from his room, descended the
stairs, and made his way to the library. He paused immediately to the left of
the open doorway, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and positioned
himself so the ruined side of his face remained out of view as he entered the
It took him a moment to find Mrs. Leighton.
Slight of build, she stood to the right of the door, her attention fixed on a
book she’d pulled from one of the shelves. Although her back was partially
turned toward him, there was no denying her beauty. Not even at this
Auburn tresses swept into a loose knot afforded
him with a view of her neck, of the delicate bone at the top of her spine as
she bowed her head to read. A stray strand of hair lay against that unblemished
skin, infusing him with a most bizarre need to tuck it back into place.
He shook himself free from the notion and gave
the open door a gentle knock.
With a small start and a swift glance over her
shoulder to see who was there, she turned. “Mr. West. Thank you for agreeing to
Colin stared at her. It was impossible not to
when the hesitant smile she offered lent an almost angelic innocence to her
appearance. He’d thought her beautiful when he’d first seen her, partially
covered in mud. Now, he acknowledged, she was much more than that.
This woman, with her almond shaped eyes fringed
by long sooty lashes and with a pair of rosy lips parted as if in question, was
Her slender body, gently curved beneath the
black folds of her bombazine gown, hid what he imagined to be a pair of dainty
He blinked at the realization that he was
admiring the tips of her slippers while wondering about her toes. Idiot.
He snapped his gaze back to hers and cleared his throat. “Thank you for
inviting me into your home.”
That hesitant smile curved upward with added
warmth, dimpling her cheeks. “I’m glad I did or Jasper and I would likely have
been worse off.”
A shudder raked through him.
“Surely not. Mr. Reynolds would have found you
both eventually.” He considered her obvious state of mourning and told himself
not to pry. Ignoring the voice of reason he asked, “I trust there’s no husband
to speak of?”
A long inhale was followed by a deep exhalation,
as though she needed additional air to steady herself. “He died nearly a year
“I’m sorry.” He was a cad for making her state
what he’d suspected to be the case, for making her address the loss she’d
suffered. And it had been a loss. Her anguished expression proved it.
She held his gaze until the silence became
pronounced before suddenly dropping the book she’d been holding onto the table
where Sense and Sensibility still
remained. An awkward pause followed, then she seemed to collect herself and
gestured toward the armchairs. “Please, come have a seat. There’s tea if you
Her artlessness suggested she was unused to
entertaining guests. A strange occurrence in an upper-class woman who didn’t
look more than five and thirty.
Accepting her invitation, Colin crossed to the
proffered seat. As he passed her, he took a deep breath and was instantly
struck by the sweet, fragrant scent that swirled in the air around her. It
was like peonies after a cool spring shower - an understated perfume that
served to enhance the allure of the wearer rather than overwhelm them.
As far as Colin was concerned, it was tempting
as hell and a blatant contrast to the bolder scent of roses worn by his
He took his seat and waited for Mrs. Leighton to
do the same, then watched with interest as she served the tea - first his cup
and then her own. Her hands, he noted, were delicately formed with slender
fingers that quivered ever so slightly beneath the weight of the pot, until
several drops missed the cup they were meant for and stained the white cloth
that covered the table.
“Forgive me.” She set the pot aside and reached
for a napkin with which to dab at the mess. “I’m not accustomed to having
visitors, though I dare say that’s no excuse for clumsiness.”
“It’s as good as any.” He raised his cup and
sipped his tea.
“You’re too kind.” This was said without
glancing in his direction. Followed immediately by, “I wish there were more I
could do to repay you.”
“For not minding about the spill?”
“No. Of course not.” A nervous chuckle escaped
her. She took a quick sip of her own tea, then sent him a hesitant glance. “For
ensuring my livelihood. As you may have noted, the situation here at Leighton
House is not the best. But Jasper will change that, I’m sure. Which is why I’m
doubly grateful to you for saving him.”
Colin knit his brow. He wasn’t quite sure how a
cross-breed like Jasper would improve upon Mrs. Leighton’s finances. “If it’s
not too bold of me to ask, what do you expect of Jasper, exactly?”
“He’s a truffle dog,” Mrs. Leighton declared.
“One of the finest ever bred in these parts, according to the man from whom I
Colin almost forgot himself and turned directly
toward her. He stopped at the last second, his posture stiff as he carefully
asked, “You know the seller well?”
“No, not at all. I think he was a traveling
“And he convinced you to purchase Jasper.” Anger
was quickly brewing inside him. There were no worse creatures upon this earth
than those who took advantage of others. And as unfortunate as it was, Mrs.
Leighton had clearly been conned.
“It seemed like a good investment.” She sent him
a swift glance accompanied by a weak smile. “Granted, I know very little about
truffle hunting, but I’m certain I can learn. The important thing is for me to
acquire additional income, and with Jasper already trained to–”
“Jasper is no such thing,” Colin said. He stood,
his jerky movements rattling the china. “That dog will never find a single damn
“He’s all wrong for that sort of work. For one
thing, he’s not a poodle, a spaniel, or a setter, besides which truffle dogs
are obedient and extraordinarily clever. They do not run off and get stuck in
water-logged holes during storms.”
Mrs. Leighton stared at him, her eyes as wide as
Steven’s had been at the tavern. The slightest gasp let Colin know that it was
indeed his misshapen face, not his words, that prompted this reaction. Because
he’d forgotten himself after all and in his frustration, he’d turned to her
directly, allowing her to see the scarring that puckered his skin and made him